


The Ducks Run Away!

by BarracudaHeart, CosmicTanzanite



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Comedy, Dentists, Gen, Gyro is a wreck, Inspired by Bob's Burgers, Specifically the episode 'The Kids Run Away', Stakeout, childhood fears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 04:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17379851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarracudaHeart/pseuds/BarracudaHeart, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicTanzanite/pseuds/CosmicTanzanite
Summary: Heavily inspired by a Bob's Burgers episode,  we find Louie evading the dreaded dentist's office by taking refuge in Duckburg's resident weirdo's apartment.





	The Ducks Run Away!

“Wait, why is Webby here if it’s just us three getting our teeth looked at?” Huey asked in slight confusion as they walked into the dentist’s office. 

“Because learning more about the various parts of the body is beneficial, and I am bored!!” she cheered as she leaped past them, eager to look at all the various dental info she could find. But all there was in sight, sadly, was old magazines. “Aw. Shoot.”

“Well, you could always take my place,” Louie offered, trying to sound inviting and hoping Webby would accept his offer.

“Louie,” Donald scolded lightly as he walked in and slumped down in a seat.

“I don’t get why you’re so reluctant to get your teeth cleaned,” Scrooge muttered to the triplets as he sat next to Donald. “If you boys are brushing your teeth every day like you should, there should be no issue, right?”

Huey and Dewey didn’t seem too worried. Louie on the other hand stared into space as he remembered his ‘shortcuts’ to that routine, which usually involved brushing his reflection’s teeth or just chewing mint flavored gum to get Uncle Donald off his back. 

“If they don’t have any of those sticky rubber wall-whacker toys, I’m writing a formal complaint,” Dewey muttered, glancing at his phone.

“You only come to these appointments for the toy?” Scrooge grumbled.

“Uh, duh? Why else.”

Scrooge rolled his eyes and leafed through the Consumer Report magazine in the waiting room. It was seven years old, but it listed him as the richest duck in the world, so it was still very valid and up to date in his eyes.

“Huey? Dewey? Louie?” the receptionist called out.

“Good luck, boys!” Donald smiled encouragingly as the three got out of their seats.    
  
“Thanks, Uncle Donald!” Huey replied, turning his head as they entered the office.   


“Yeah. We’ll need it,” Louie huffed.   
  
As the three triplets walked toward the dentist office together, the receptionist stopped them. “Hold on now, guys! We can only see one of you at a time.”   
  
“Welp!” Louie exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Tough luck, guys! Looks like we have to go in order from oldest to youngest!”

“But she didn’t say-”   
  
“Get in there, Huey!” Before he could finish his sentence, Louie shoved his brother into the open doorway. “You can’t keep everyone waiting, geez!”   
  
“Ow!” Huey glanced over his shoulder to stare angrily at the other triplet as he walked through the doorway. “Fine, fine. I wanted to get it over with anyway.”   
  
Once his brother was gone, Louie let out a sigh of relief and made his way back to the chairs in the waiting room. However, Dewey was looking at him with raised brows and a curious expression.

“What was that all about?” he asked.   
  
“Huh?” Louie turned around, looking a bit embarrassed. “Well, since we normally do things in that order, I just thought it’d make sense for Huey to go first, you to go second and-”

“You’re scared, aren’t you?”   
  
The green-clad duckling’s eyes popped open wide at the other’s suggestion, and he began to sweat, nervously tucking his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “What? Me? Scared of the dentist? Dewey, are you serious?”   


“Yes,” the other replied quickly. “It definitely looks like you’re scared of the dentist.”   
  
“How!?” he asked, visibly shaking. His brother simply looked him up and down, letting out a hum of acknowledgement.    
  
“Ugh! Whatever. I’m gonna go read one of those boring health magazines like Uncle Donald,” Louie grumbled as he walked back over to a chair and plopped down, crossing his arms.   
  
Donald side-eyed his nephew. “You know, the more you hold it off, the more nervous you’re going to get.”

“I’m not nervous!” Louie insisted.

“Next!” the receptionist called.   


“Your turn Dewey!” Louie insisted quickly, gripping the handles of the chair.

His brother rolled his eyes and walked in just as Huey was walking out, looking quite proud of himself. “Just as always, no cavities and the minimal amount of plaque!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! We get it, Smiley,” Louie snapped, grabbing an old magazine and staring at whatever the first thing it opened on.

He only then realized he’d been staring for fifteen minutes at an ad for underwear blankly when the receptionist finally called him in, and Louie glanced at both his uncles for them to reconsider. Scrooge was passively looking at his Consumer Report stats from 2011, and Donald gave a stern look.

Groaning, Louie walked in, passing Dewey as he fiddled with some glow-in-the-dark sunglasses with the flickering lights. “Hey, these things actually might make for a good accessory on my talk show if the batteries last more than four hours.”

Louie stared ahead at the dentist’s chair, then at the very unenthused blue-jay dentist.

“Louie.”

“Steve.”

“It’s Dr. Gingiva.”

“Look, we know each other well enough that we can go on a first name basis!” Louie sauntered over to the chair and lounged on it. “And we both know how this is gonna go down, sooo….how about you let me leaf through some of those magazines on the rack over here, you can take your lunch break, and we just fill up the appointment time with that? It would save us both the trouble.”

“Ha! No, you’re getting your teeth looked at today, and there better not be any biting,” Dr. Gingiva warned. “We’ll make this quick and easy, okay?”

Louie swallowed back a groan and lay back staring at the ceiling. “Fine. But if your needle thingy gets anywhere near my gums, you’re getting a taste of these chompers.”

“Riiight.” The dentist was already preparing his sharpest tools.

Meanwhile, Dewey and Huey looked around the waiting room. “Hey...wasn’t Webby here with us?”

Just as the adults realized they were one duckling short, the door burst open and another dentist tossed Webby out into the waiting room.

“I just wanted to see how the drill works!” she whined and shuffled back over to the row of seats, grabbing for a magazine. “Now I’m even more bored!”

“Sit still, Webbigail. It won’t be long until Louie is out of there, and we can all go home,” Scrooge assured, tearing out the pages about himself in the magazine to save for later.

Just as he spoke, they heard Louie shout. Then Dr. Gingiva screamed, and a long silence followed. After about a minute, the dentist came out and walked over to Donald, leaning in.

“So, uh….we have a situation here. Louie’s got a cavity.”

Donald groaned. “What do we do about it? He’s gonna freak out.”

“Well, I have a cancellation, so I can do it right now. Have him back out here in twenty. Sound good?”

“Alright,” the duck sighed. “Just figure out how to keep him calm during it...better yet, don’t tell him at all.”

Unbeknownst to everyone, Louie had his ear pressed to the door and was able to listen in carefully to the conversation. Granted it was all muffled and quiet, but he only needed to make out the word ‘cavity’ to know there was trouble a-brewing.

“I’ll have him back out soon,” Dr. Gingiva assured Donald and walked back through the door. 

Thirty seconds later, he shuffled over to Donald again, looking rather anxious.

“Uhhh...another situation. Louie bailed.”

Donald began to sputter in disbelief, and soon he was following Dr. Gingiva to his office. He saw the window to the fire escape was wide open, and there was a note on the dentist chair.

_ ‘You rats sold me out! >:( - Louie’ _

As the others frantically decided what to do and how they would go about finding Louie, the frightened duckling was making a mad dash as far away from the dentist’s office as he possibly could. He didn’t really know where he was going or what he would do other than hide. Hopefully, he could pull this off for a few days. Sure, he would need food and water, but he could easily sneak into Funso’s and pretend to be a starving orphan like he’d done countless times before. He would just have to hope the employees didn’t recognize him this time.

After he’d run a few blocks, the duckling leaned against a stop sign to catch his breath. While he was doing so, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He looked down to see Donald’s caller ID flashing across the screen. Sighing, he pressed the “ignore call” button and looked away. Seconds later, it rang again. He ignored it. Then again. Ignored. And again. Ignored. And again. Ignored. And again. Ignored...wait, no, this time he pressed the wrong button. Darn.    
  
“LOUIE!” an infuriated voice screamed on the other end as soon as the call had been accepted. “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!?”   
  
Louise hissed, holding the phone away from his ear as his uncle went into a tirade on the other end. “I should be the one asking you that!”   
  
“WHAT!? YOU COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW, MISTER, OR I’LL-”   
  
“Or you’ll what? Make me get the cavity filled? Yeah, nice try, Uncle Donald, but that’s not happening,” Louie said, smirking proudly. “If being with you guys means I have to subject myself to torture, then I think I’ll travel on my own for a while.”   
  
He knew Donald replied with something very loud and vehement, but he couldn’t make out a single word of it. Craning his head further into the phone, Louie tried harder, but his uncle’s tirade was more or less inarticulate. Eventually, someone took the phone from Donald.   
  
“Listen to me, lad,” a voice that could only belong to Scrooge McDuck spoke on the other end, “you gotta go get that cavity filled rather you like it or not! You’ve got us all worried sick about you!”   
  
“If you’re so worried about me, then maybe you wouldn’t take me to be restrained against my will while some whack-job messes with my teeth twice a year!” Louie spat back, slapping his palm against his forehead.   
  
“It’s for your own good!” the billionaire continued to lecture. “Look, I know you’re scared, but-”   
  
“I am  _ not  _ scared, okay? I’m smart.”   
  
“Lettin’ your teeth rot out isn’t smart.”   
  
Louie only grumbled in response, unable to come up with a very good comeback. “Well, I’m not coming back, and nothing any of you do or say will make me change my mind!”   
  
“Louie, I-”   
  
Before Scrooge could get another word in, Louie hung up his phone and shoved it back in his pocket. He’d have to find somewhere to hide as quickly as possible, knowing his family would be hot on his trail any second if they weren’t already. Tapping his bill, he began to study his surroundings: several run-down apartment buildings, flickering signs, the sound of cars honking, graffiti on nearly every surface and trash littering the corners.    
  
_ Oh great… _   
  
Looking up at a street sign confirmed the duckling’s fears. He’d found himself smack-dab in the middle of Marsh District, perhaps one of the most unfavorable places in all of Duckburg.   
  
“Come on!” he cursed to himself, walking down the street and kicking a pebble in frustration. “Out of all the places I could’ve wound up, it just had to be this crummy old-”   
  
“GET OUT OF THE ROAD, KID!”   
  
The loud honk of a car startled Louie and informed him that he’d been standing right in the middle of a busy street. As rapidly as he could, the duckling dove out of the car’s path and onto the sidewalk again. Still shocked and using the adrenaline to his benefit, he impulsively ran into the parking lot of one of the several apartment complexes. Resting along the side of a run-down red car, he panted heavily.   
  
“Oh gosh, I’m gonna get myself killed,” he muttered under his breath, right as a familiar screeching caused him to perk up.    
  
Looking in the sound’s direction, Louie spotted no other than Gyro Gearloose, the number one scientist at McDuck Enterprises, shooing off a dumpster raccoon from biting at the bag of groceries he’d dropped, gathering up the packages of ramen and cans of of cat food that had fallen out. Cursing at the raccoon as it charged at him again, Gyro swatted at them and grumbled as he held tightly to the grocery bag and walked off.    
  
Louie followed him with his eyes, watching as the chicken relaxed a little on his walk, sauntering toward the closest stairwell and idly humming to himself as he did so. The chicken made his way up the first two flight of stairs, stopping after the third. Once he was on the third level of the building, he walked a few doors down to one before fishing a key out of his pants pocket and turning it into the lock. As soon as the door opened, he stepped inside and shut it behind him. A devious smirk made its way onto Louie’s bill.   
  
_ “Bingo.” _

* * *

“Where did you come from, green one?”

“Why, Dr. Gearloose! Don’t you remember?” Louie gave a knowing grin to the suspicious inventor as he stood at his door. “You invited me to your apartment to spend the weekend.”

“I did no such thing nor would I ever dream of it.” Gyro narrowed his eyes, skeptically. “This place is nowhere near suitable for small children such as yourself.”

“Wh-oh of course you did! You set it all up with Uncle Donald and everything! You might just not remember because of the horrible gas leak that was in the lab last week.”

The chicken’s eyes widened in confusion. “There was a gas leak?”

“Oh yeah! You were right in the worst of it! It happened on Tuesday.” Louie shook his head. “Those darn gas clouds! Messes with the memory, y’know?”

Gyro’s skeptical look shifted to one of concern for his own mind. “Well...that might explain why I don’t remember it. Was anyone else affected?”

“Uh...yes! Everyone!” Louie needed to cover all his bases. He hoped his grin seemed genuine enough that Gyro wasn’t going to catch on to his fib.

“Hmmmm…” Gyro shook his head slightly, trying to recollect his own memories and sighed. “I suppose I am a man of my word, memory loss or not. Come in?”

“Thank you!”    
  
Louie felt quite smug at his own mind tricks on the self-proclaimed smartest man in Duckburg and looked around to get a good feel of the studio apartment. Messy dishes? Stacks of papers? The faint mixed aesthetic of crushing loneliness and bachelorhood? He could very well get used to it here.

“I suppose I should call your uncle and let him know you made it here safely,” Gyro spoke up as he went back to sorting out his groceries.

“No!” Louie blurted out. “I-I mean uh...my uncle actually said you should only call if I  _ didn’t _ make it safely.”

“Ahh...makes sense, I guess. Also, I really don’t care either way,” Gyro admitted with a shrug. 

“So what’s the cat food for? Your lunch?” Louie asked.

“Of course not.” The chicken rolled his eyes. “It’s for my cats. You’ve seen their pictures, haven’t you?”

“How could I forget?” Louie laughed, trying to sound convincing as he looked over and saw three of the furry animals inhabiting the apartment. “There’s that one right there, and the other three, and my favorite, that other one over here.”

“Hmmmm.” Gyro watched the cats slink away. “They like you. The more they walk away from you, the more they like you.”

“Oh. Great!” Louie smiled awkwardly and made himself comfortable on the sofa. “So, where’s your TV?”

“Oh, I don’t have a TV.”

“What?!”

“I mean, I used to, but it was way more useful for parts for my latest invention, the Gearloose Electric Portable Shark Aquarium. That of course, ah...didn’t go too well. The sharks were being constantly electrocuted by miniature currents that developed their brains to gain sentience and climb out of the tank. As of right now, I think they’re conquering Atlantis.”

“Ohhhhh…” Louie groaned, rubbing at his head. Maybe this was a mistake.   
  
“Do I need to feed you?” Gyro asked, walking over to the fridge.   
  
The duckling thought for a moment. It had been a while since his last meal. Plus, even if he didn’t eat now, he’d have to eventually. “What ya got?”   
  
“Hmmmm…” The chicken opened up his fridge and studied its contents, listing them out loud. “About one-fourth of a leftover tuna sandwich, three containers full of cream cheese, a carton of milk that went bad yesterday but isn’t that chunky yet and what appears to be a dead rat.” His eyes suddenly grew wide, and he gasped in terror. “Tungsten! Are you serious? I told you, we can’t keep doing this!”   
  
As Gyro dealt with the unfavorable situation, Louie’s phone buzzed. He took it out of his pocket and saw a Quackchat notification from Huey. Rolling his eyes, he decided to open it. The notification opened to reveal his brother with a rather concerned expression on his face as he sat in a carseat. Webby’s fingers could be seen making bunny ears above his head. The photo was captioned “Launchpad picked us up and Uncle Donald’s furious. Where are you?”

Rolling his eyes, Louie snapped a quick selfie of him smirking obnoxiously and giving a peace sign. He typed the caption “not telling :P” underneath and sent it, chuckling to himself. Almost immediately, a text message from Huey made his phone go off again. Groaning, he opened it.

_ You’re with Gyro??? _   
  
Feeling his blood run cold, Louie cursed under his breath and typed a frantic reply.

_ HOW DID YOU KNOW _

Huey answered almost instantly.    
  
_ Check the Quackchat you just sent me _

Wincing, Louie opened the picture he’d just taken and noticed Gyro in the background, holding a hissing cat in his arms and hissing back at it. The duckling groaned in frustration at his own mistake.   
  
“Rats!” he cursed, immediately followed by a similar frustrated noise from Gyro.   
  
“Where!? I swear, if that cat doesn’t stop bringing me “presents,” I’m going to send him back to my awful neighbor and make her pay for-”   
  
“No! Not actual rats,” Louie cut him off, rolling his eyes. “I meant like, the thing people say when they don’t want to get yelled at for swearing.”   
  
“I don’t give a damn if you swear.”   
  
“Oh, really? Hey, maybe you  _ are _ pretty cool!” Louie shook his head, finding himself getting sidetracked. “Anyway, Gyro! Uncle Scrooge wouldn’t happen to know where you live, right?”

“Of course he does,” Gyro answered matter-of-factly. “Company file.” He dipped the leftover tuna sandwich in one of the tubs of cream cheese and licked off a large glob of the spread.

Louie hardly had time to be disgusted before he heard a honk outside Gyro’s apartment window and looked out, seeing the McDuck Enterprise’s limo parked out on the street below. Scrooge and Donald were looking up at the window with displeased faces.

“Aw poop.”

“Louie, this isn’t funny anymore!” Donald snapped up at him. “You are coming down right now!”

“And let creepy quack dentist touch my teeth?! No way!” the duckling yelled back down.

“Wait, what dentist? Did I forget about this during the gas leak too?” Gyro called out as he walked over to the window and looked down at his boss.

“Gas lea-Gyro, the lad ran away, and he’s lying to you to hide in your home,” Scrooge informed him.

Louie was trying to come up another lie, but much to his relief and slight confusion, Gyro shrugged. “Alright then. Whatever the reality is, I do not care. I’m gonna go flush this dead rat.”

“Louie get back down here, and stop this nonsense right now!” Donald demanded.

“No! I’m staying here until I know that I’m not going to the dentist!”

“So you’d rather stay shacked up with a crazy mad scientist?” Scrooge raised an eyebrow.

“It’s better than a drill to the teeth!”

Scrooge then gave a bit of a daring smile. “How about a lil wager then? You make it through the weekend at Gyro’s, and you don’t have to get the filling.”

“Done deal!”

“But if you crack or forfeit, you are going straight back to the dental office and nipping this in the bud,” Scrooge countered.

“FINE BY ME BECAUSE I’M NOT BUDGING OUT OF THIS APARTMENT!” Louie slammed the window shut.

“What did you just do?!” Donald snapped at Scrooge. “He can’t not get a cavity filled!”

“Oh, he’s not going to win this. There is no way he’ll be able to last in Gyro’s apartment. Believe me, I couldn’t survive a single  _ dinner party _ in there.”   
  
Donald opened his bill to snap back but slowly began to realize that his uncle was probably right. Still not too pleased with the notion, he crossed his arms and pouted. “Fine. We’ll do the bet. But we need to stay close by in case he wants to go home at night.”   
  
“Are you suggesting a stakeout?” Scrooge asked, a playful glimmer in his eyes.   
  
Before he could correct the older duck and tell him that was the last thing he had planned for the night, he was already walking away with a bit more skip in his step than usual. “I haven’t been on a proper stakeout in years! And for this particular situation, it should be a pretty fun one.” He laughed. “Oh, Launchpad’s gonna be happy.”   
  
A frustrated groan left Donald’s throat as he trudged after him, both ducks walking back to the car. “Okay, okay. But we should at least get Huey, Dewey and Webby home first.”   
  
“Ya really think those kids would let us do something like that by ourselves? Especially when they’ve got a chance to embarrass their brother.”   
  
Realizing he had a point, Donald officially sighed in defeat, not looking forward to having to spend the night in a cramped limo but also not wanting to leave his nephew alone with a mad scientist.   
  


* * *

“And that’s how I found out Kevin was indeed a girl.” Gyro shuddered. “I thought she was just getting fat because she chased all the other cats away from the bowl, but nope. Turns out she was close to giving birth right in the middle of my bed.”    
  
“That’s….nice,” Louie commented, cringing at the resolution of the story that had been going on for what seemed like hours. “Uh….which one is Kevin again?”   
  
“That one.”    
  
Gyro pointed right next to Louie, and the duckling turned around to see a cat sitting on the armrest. He gasped a bit in shock as he looked into the bright yellow eyes of a rather pissed off tuxedo cat.    
  
“Oh!” Louie exclaimed, trying to sound cheery. “Heh. Nice kitty….” He reached out a hand to pet the animal, but a soft shout from Gyro stopped him.   
  
“Ah! I wouldn’t do that if I were you. She’s highly aggressive.”   
  
The duckling’s face morphed into a rather horrified expression as he realized just how angry Kevin looked and made out a low, surly growl coming from the cat. He pulled his hand back rather hastily, scooting away from her slowly. “I can tell.”   
  
Gyro’s voiced dropped to a whisper. “Stay still, and she’ll forget you’re there and run off. I found that out after she jumped on my chest when I was in sleep paralysis.”

“H-How long is that going to take?”

“Mmm. Could be a couple seconds, maybe couple of hours.”

“Hours?”

“Much like the result of an invention, cats are unpredictable.” Gyro shrugged and looked into his cup of lukewarm tea. Seeing it was empty, he proceeded to pop the teabag in his mouth and chew it, much to Louie’s disgust.

Even in his absolute mortified state, Louie told himself he wasn’t going to throw the towel in this soon. So Gyro was a weirdo shut-in with a bunch of likely feral cats and would eat and talk about weird gross things? It was definitely better than getting his tooth drilled. So was the recurring ache in his mouth.

Before Gyro could offer Louie a glass of chunky milk or an old banana that most definitely didn’t just have a roach nibbling on it a second earlier, there was a knock at the door, and Gyro went to answer it. Much to the chicken’s slight irritation, and Louie’s growing consternation, Huey, Dewey and Webby were at the door, all with their own sleeping supplies.

“Hey there, Dr. Gearloose! We’re all here to stay with Louie!” Huey greeted him with a grin.

“Ohhh, no you’re not!” Gyro shook his head. “I’m already doing a favor by watching your brother, so there’s no way I’m letting all of you take hostel in my apartment this weekend and-”

Gyro was interrupted by his phone buzzing and read the message from Scrooge.

_ Watch the children this weekend and I’ll raise your salary by 15% _

The inventor then looked back up with a suddenly welcoming smile. “Er...come in! Mi casa es su casa!”

The three all looked at each other knowingly as they walked in, and Dewey couldn’t help but be smug as he saw Louie’s infuriated face.

“What are you guys doing here?” the youngest triplet hissed under his breath as he stormed over.

“We’re here to stay the weekend at Gyro’s with you! Because it doesn’t seem fair that you get to have a sleepover at the coolest place in Duckburg,” Dewey spoke with obvious sarcasm and a sly grin.

“Did Uncle Donald set you up to this?”

“Whaaaaat?” Huey piped up. “Why would he do that? We’re obviously going to side with our own brother on this.”

“Somehow I’m not sure I believe you.” Louie glared at them all, especially Webby as she was very obviously texting who he could only assume was Donald or Scrooge.

_ The Eagles Have Landed!!!!!! ;’D _ _  
_

Scrooge smiled as he looked at Webby’s text. “The kids made it inside.”

“So what now?” Donald folded his arms, unsure if this plan was going to work.

“We relay the instructions to them and check in every few hours to see if there’s any progress on making Louie crack.”

“Hey, if this is a stakeout, why aren’t there any steaks?” Launchpad asked.

“Does he have to be here?” Donald looked with annoyance at Scrooge.

“Yes. Don’t question it!” Scrooge smiled. “Now step one,” he spoke as he began to text the kids, “we start on the offensive.”

As all three of the other ducklings looked at their phone suddenly, Louie glared. “What are you all looking at?”

“N-Nothing!” Huey replied. “Just uh...a funny viral video...that we all found at once?”

“Mmmmhmmmmm.” Louie glared at them. “Whatever you three are up to, I’m not gonna let you guys, Uncle Scrooge or Uncle Donald get the best of me. I’m way tougher than you take me for.”

“Sure.” Dewey smiled smugly before he called out to Gyro. “Hey, Dr. Gearloose? Are there any  _ Saturday chores _ around your place you need help with?”

Gyro seemed genuinely pleased at the question. “Why, yes actually! How thoughtful of you to ask! I’ve been meaning to scrub my bathroom after that septic tank rupture last month.”

“Anything else?” Huey goaded.

“Clearing out the roach nest under the stove…” Gyro was thinking hard.

“Go on…” Webby coaxed sweetly, much to Louie’s frustration.

“...Oh! I know what really does need to be done! I need to trim my cats’ claws. They’ve been busting through the plastic on the furniture and leaving holes in my sheets because I’ve been too nervous to trim them, and now they’re at the point that if they scratched at my neck, they could lacerate my jugular.”

“Hey! Why don’t  _ we all help you _ with that!” Dewey smiled, his eyes directly on Louie’s horrified face.

“Great idea!” Gyro grabbed for a very fluffy calico that was currently scurrying out from under a chair. “If we all pitch in, it will only take a few hours. Everyone grab a cat.”

“Louie, you should take that nice pretty one on the armrest right there,” Webby suggested.

“Oh, yes!” Gyro agreed. “He’s gotten acquainted with Kevin already.”

Louie stared in absolute terror at the murderous glare of the cat and gulped. He was going to  _ kill _ Dewey if Kevin didn’t kill him first.

Scrooge laughed uproariously as Huey texted him an update. “Gyro’s got them all wrangling his beastie little felines! This is better than what I expected!”

“I have no idea what you even expected.” Donald looked into the binoculars to see if he could get any glimpse of what was going on inside from the window.

“Hey guys! I’m back with steaks!” Launchpad climbed back in the car with a takeout bag from a restaurant. “I used the company card.”   
  
“Launchpad, I didn’t tell ya to….ugh, never mind,” Scrooge sighed. “I suppose we do need a little something to keep us fueled.”   
  
Back in Gyro’s apartment, chaos was ensuring as the ducklings tried their best to wrestle the cats they’d been assigned for the nail clipping.   
  
“Maybe we should have cleaned the bathroom,” Huey whimpered, trying his best to hold down a struggling brown tabby and white cat Gyro had told him was named Barium.    
  
“N-No kidding! Ahhhhh!” Dewey yelped, chasing after Tungsten and almost falling over in the process. “Come back, kitty!”   
  
“You guys are just doing it wrong. This is easy! Isn’t that right, Gordito?” Webby looked down to the big, fluffy grey and white cat sitting in her lap and purring as she carefully trimmed one of its claws. “Awwwww.”   
  
Meanwhile, Louie was perhaps having the most trouble of all. Kevin was still lounging on the armrest, giving the duckling a stare that made it known she would slice him open if he even stepped slightly near to her. He gulped, trying to put on a smile in hopes of calming the cat.   
  
“H-Hey there, Kevin!” he laughed. “How’s it goin’, boy-I mean, girl?”   
  
The cat flattened her ears and shrunk back, telling Louie to back off. Boy, he wished he could.   
  
“Well, Kevin,” he continued, “your….loving owner Gyro decided that it would be a good and safe idea for me, a helpless child, to trim those little claws of yours! It’ll only take a second. You’re cool with that, aren’t you?”   
  
Kevin hissed.   
  
“Okay. You are most certainly not cool with it. Hey Gyro, can we switch cats?”

Gyro was busy getting his face eaten at by Magnesium, who had enough of being prim and proper after one tiny nail was clipped. “Ahhhh I’d love to but I don’t think I can-AAH Maggie that is my eyeball!”

Wincing, Louie turned his attention back to Kevin, who was staring him down with the same sort of look a person would give a roach.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhkay….” he whispered under his breath, taking a step forward and bracing himself as the cat suddenly sprang.

Scrooge and Donald both cringed as they could hear the faint screeches and yowls of the enraged cat and Louie’s terrified yelling and glanced to each other.

“Do you think he’ll give up?” Donald asked in a slightly worried whisper.

Before Scrooge could answer, they heard the duckling’s triumphant screech as he managed to wrangle the cat to the ground and sighed. “It was close...but no. We have to come up with a second step.”

About an hour later, Gyro had smiled at their success. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

“Gyro, your face is still bleeding. Should we call a hospital?” Webby asked worriedly, still petting Gordito.

“No, no,” Gyro assured, grabbing for a well-used roll of duct tape. “That’s not necessary. Also the animal shelter warned me that if they got another report of my cats mauling people, they’d take them away, so I’d like to avoid any public acknowledgement of this.”

Louie was currently huddled on the sofa, covered in scratches, feathers ruffled and eye twitching.

“Woof!” Huey smiled, sitting right beside him. “That sure was rough, huh? Bet you kind of wish you could get out of here, right?”

“And get sent to that quack? Ha! I’d rather try to put Kevin in doll clothes than be in that offic-ow…” Louie groaned, rubbing at his cheek when he felt a sharp pain from his tooth. 

“Uhhh, dude, if your mouth is hurting, you should go to the dentis-” Dewey began but was cut off from a sharp glare from his brother.

Webby took a glance at her phone to read the incoming message from Scrooge. She glanced to Huey and Dewey, and they all nodded discreetly at each other. Louie caught on, and glared at them. “Ohhh no, what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Huey assured.

“Just another...viral video!” Webby smiled nervously, terrible at lying.

“Lemme see it.”

Webby glanced to the other two ducklings and gulped when they had no solutions. So she yelped, “Gyro!”

“Yes?” The chicken was busy trying to dab a piece of duct tape over a profuse stream of blood on his cheek.

“I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’re trying to develop a patent for your own version of Mages and Marauders! You have to tell me all about it.”

“Better yet,” Dewey cut in, “we have to  _ play _ it!”

Louie immediately knew he was in for a nightmare when he saw a large smile grow on Gyro’s face, and the chicken held his hands up excitedly.

“Why yes! That’s a wonderful idea!”

Donald was slightly worried by the dark chuckle he heard come from Scrooge as he sent the next step of directions to the children. “Mages and Marauders? I played that in college with my bandmates. What’s so bad about that?”

“Oh, but you don’t understand.” Scrooge looked at his nephew with a devious grin. “Gyro has made his  _ own _ version of the game that’s absolutely impossible to get through. He’s made so many ridiculous rules and concepts for it, that I, the master of all competition, couldn’t even make it through. I almost went mad.”

“Yeah,” Launchpad cut in from the back seat, mouth full of ribeye. “Fenton and I tried playing it with him once. We left because he kept godmodding. And he ran out of snacks.”

“So how long do you think it will be before Louie has had enough?” Donald asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, he’s tenacious, and he’s capable of outwitting most other people, but Gyro is a force of pure annoying insanity and chaos. I give it about five hours.”

Unfortunately for Scrooge, five hours was the approximate amount of time it took for Gyro to simply set up the game, as evidenced by the intricate models of castles, mountains and other various structures he’d created for it, as well as finding various panels of the game board, fifteen different kinds of dice, a graphing calculator for each person, ridiculous hats and a box of random junk that he insisted to the children was ‘absolutely necessary.’

“And I call it Gyro-nids and Gryphons!” he concluded proudly. “t’s a working title.”

“Oh….okay,” Webby yawned, still trying to stay awake in spite of it being two hours past her usual bedtime. 

“Hey Gyro, not that I’m totally not jazzed to play, but can we save it for tomorrow morning when we’re all more awake?” Dewey piped up, blinking sleepily.

Louie grinned at an opportunity to get through more hours of this insanity by sleeping in on a Sunday and slung an arm around a half-conscious Huey’s shoulder. “Yeah! Just think of how much more fun we’ll have in the  _ morning! _ ”

Gyro looked at the game that was currently covering the majority of his apartment floor, then at the clock and sighed. “Oh alright,” he huffed. “I best be getting to bed myself anyway.”

Once he’d had the sofa-bed unfolded, he warned the four ducklings. “Try not to toss and turn on it too much. It’s prone to folding back up by itself.”

“Oh. Great,” Louie grinned tightly, sitting up in bed and glancing warily at his brothers and Webby. “Well, uh, goodnight Dr. Gearloose.”

Right before he laid down, all four children were startled by the sound of a metal pot being clanged on and Gyro, clad in a nightshirt, screaming from the kitchen and charging over to his own bed which was covered in tin foil for some weird reason. “AWAY WITH YE, ROGUE ROBOTS! YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!”   


“What the heck?!”

“Oh!” Gyro stopped to address the ducklings momentarily. “I forgot to mention. I’ve been having issues falling asleep, so I like to pretend I’m a sole survivor of the day robots truly do turn on our kind, and it helps me drift off!”

“Uhh…” Dewey glanced awkwardly at his siblings then back to Gyro’s cheerful expression. “O-Okay? Carry on then.”

“Gladly. Goodnight.” The chicken gave a calm nod before suddenly bursting back into screams. “AUUUUGH! OH NO, OH NO! I MUST RETREAT UNDERGROUND!” he screeched as he climbed under the tinfoil and his own blankets. “WHY MUST THE WORLD BURN WHEN I’M GETTING SLEEPY?!”

When the screaming had ceased, Webby whispered, “Wow...that sure was kooky, huh Louie?”

“Yeah!” Huey murmured, trying to sound convincing. “Maybe we should go home…”

“You can if you want!” Louie hissed at them. “But I’m not budging. I don’t care how many screaming fits that weirdo has in the night or how many times this bed folds up on me, I’m not stepping foot out of this apartment until Monday mo-” he paused to wince at the sudden throb from his tooth, “Monday morning!”

“Kids, could you not whisper please?” Gyro called from his bed. “Otherwise, the angry opossum in the wall comes out thinking there’s a raccoon fighting for territory and proceeds to bite whatever moves.”

“There’s an opossum in your wall?”

“Her name is Peter.”

“Her?”

“I’m not good at determining animal gender okay?! If you want to deal with her smelly little babies chewing the wiring, be my guest!”

Deciding not to ask about whatever other potentially pregnant wildlife lived in Gyro’s apartment complex, the four ducklings decided to try and get to sleep….while remaining as motionless as possible with every unsettling creak of the fold-up bed.

* * *

Donald groaned as he tried his best to get some shut-eye in the passenger seat. “I can’t believe he’s actually sleeping in there.”

“I’ve got to admit, I’m rather impressed,” Scrooge muttered, “but now we’re stuck listening to Buzzsaw McSnore back there and his cursed sleep apnea.”

The two sat in silence as Launchpad snored irregularly and tried to keep track of how long he’d stop breathing in-between each snore. After a whole ten seconds of silence, Scrooge and Donald looked at each other worriedly, only to be startled by the loud rumble again.

“Oh god, I thought he was actually going to stop breathing there for a moment,” Donald breathed in relief.

For the rest of the night, until they passed out involuntarily, they were stuck listening to Launchpad’s snoring and keeping in wait for the possibility that Louie would jump ship.

* * *

“So...how do we start the game again?” Dewey stared curiously at the random objects Gyro was passing out.

The chicken rooted through the box and placed a spaghetti strainer atop a sofa arm in a very deliberate and careful manner. “Well, first we roll this fifteen-sided die to figure out who rolls for mental steps first...THEN we roll a twenty-sided die to figure out who rolls for physical steps across the board, and THEN there’s this forty-sided die to decide how many steps the game-master, thats me, gets to go, and how many steps I get to send everyone back...depending on my mood...”

Louie could already sense this day was going to be a complete nerdy nightmare, judged on how much rambling Gyro was doing and how intensely Huey and Webby were listening to the rules.   
  
“And last but not least, you consult to me to make sure your decisions are up-to-par with the master’s vision of the game, and if they are, then, make your move, and the next player gets to go! Which is normally always me, by the way.” Gyro smiled as he finished explaining the game to the kids. “Any questions?”   
  
“Yeah,” Dewey piped up, blinking in confusion. “Can you explain that again?”   
  
“Which part?”   
  
“Like...I dunno, all of it?”   
  
Gyro sighed in annoyance. “I should have known your tiny brains couldn’t process the jist of my intellectual game. I’ll go over it one more time, okay?”   
  
“Got it!” All of the triplets exchanged nervous glances, except for Louie, who got to his feet.   
  
“What are you doing?” asked Huey.    
  
“Just getting some breakfast. I’m starved and want to see if I can find something hidden in here that’s not moldy bagels or spoiled milk.” The duckling grimaced at the memory of last night’s meal.    
  
“Oh. Okay.” Huey shrugged and turned his attention back to Gyro again, who was busy explaining the game’s impossible rules once more.   
  
Of course, Louie hadn’t exactly understood a word of what the crazed chicken had been rambling about, but he didn’t need to. He didn’t want to get too involved with the game anyway. Right now, his main goal was being able to sneak away quietly while the only adult in the room was distracted.    
  
Luckily, he managed to make it to the fridge and open it up slowly and quietly as to not draw attention to himself. He surveyed the items on display in front of him and realized that the fridge’s contents weren’t anything he hadn’t seen before, nor anything he felt like putting in his stomach. How did Gyro even survive off this stuff? Before he was about to give up and go back to the group, he decided to open the other half of the fridge that contained the freezer items. He wasn’t expecting anything of interest to be there, but it never hurt to check.    


That was when Louie found salvation.

Almost glowing like the lost Ark of the Covenant, wedged in-between a bag of long expired frozen tater tots and freeze dried blueberries was a carton of ice cream. It was Bargain brand butter pecan, but it was still ice cream.

“Hey, Gyro! Do you care if I eat this ice cream?”  Louie shouted out.

“I have ice cream?”

Louie didn’t bother to answer, instead grabbing for a spoon and scooped out a large helping. It was mostly frozen over and icy, but it was better than anything else in the kitchen. But as he took a generous bite, instead of sweet cold relief, he felt nothing but sharp pain in his tooth.

Scrooge, Donald and Launchpad were all startled awake by the following scream of agony, seeing finches flee out of the nearby trees in droves. Both uncles looked at each other in horror, and bolted from the car, in fear of what horrible circumstances happened to Louie.   
  
Launchpad elbowed the door down, and Scrooge and Donald both ran in, ready to strangle Gyro for whatever he did to cause harm to Louie. They immediately stopped when they saw the scene: Louie was doubled over on the floor, a bowl of ice cream spilled closeby, and everyone else standing over him in bewildered confusion.

“Oh c’mon! Butter pecan isn’t  _ that _ bad of a flavor,” Webby coaxed Louie.

“What happened?” Donald piped up.

“I guess he ate some ice cream, and it upset his cavity?” Gyro suggested, watching Louie slowly get up.

“I’m fine! You guys can leave now!” Louie snapped at his uncles.

“Huh, you kids got farther in Gyro’s game than I did,” Scrooge observed with a smile. “Impressive.”

“Why do you love tormenting me?!” Louie whined at his family.

“We haven’t done anything,” Dewey replied.

“This would all be over if you just went to the dentist and-”

“No way! This bet isn’t over yet!” Louie declared, clutching at his face.

“Louie, you have to get that filling or your teeth are going to fall out,” Donald demanded.

“I don’t need teeth!”

“Uh, Louie, I think your uncles have a point here.”

“Stay out of this, Gyro!”

“You’re in my house hiding from a dentist. Look. I get it. I know you’re afraid.” Gyro crouched down to be more level with Louie.

“I’m not afraid-ow!”

“Kid.”

“Ow-screw it, I’m afraid!” Louie cried in pain.

“Listen to me.” Gyro pointed at him, voice flat. “I know a thing or two about fear. You’ve seen my life.”

“Yeah, you’re a mess.”

“Even so, I manage,” Gyro insisted, “and I think I have an idea to help you with this, alright?”

“Ugh...how?”

Gyro glanced back at his tinfoil bed, and his ridiculous board game setup and smiled matter-of-factly. “We turn your fear belief into make-belief!”

Louie gave a distrustful look to the inventor as he clutched at his jaw, and muttered, “Sounds lame…..but it’s better than this.”

The other gave an inspired smile. “Great! What character do you want to be?” 

* * *

In a moment of suspense, the waiting room door swung open, and Dr. Gingiva peered over the edge of the table, seeing his client step forward.

“Gingiva.”

“Gearloose.”

“I assume you received the mission docket?” The chicken adjusted the pair of security-guard grade sunglasses he was wearing over his regular spectacles.

“I did,” the dentist answered lowly, glancing downward at a very reluctant Louie Duck. “Is the patient- I mean-” he cleared his throat, “is the President of the Universe willing to do whatever it takes to save all of mankind...without biting me?”

Louie groaned and gulped. “He’s willing.”

“Right this way, Mr. President,” Gyro directed, running past the dentist and Louie to motion for them to sneak into the office and avoid the enemy spies that were surely lurking nearby.

Once Louie was in the chair, the dentist held up the dreaded needle. “This serum is an instant antidote to the dangerous neurotoxins the enemy transmitted to you. Once it’s injected, you’ll be protected from any further assassination attempts. Are you willing to proceed?”

Louie stared at the sharp point of the syringe and tensed up. “Ohhhh, I dunno...I-”

“The universe is counting on you and  _ you alone _ , Mr. President!” Gyro declared with determination, pointing at the duckling. 

Groaning, Louie shook his head. “Gyaaah, okay...do it.”

Louie braced himself for the potential sharp pain that would come from the needle, but before he could even have time to say ‘ow,’ he was distracted by the sudden noise of disturbance coming from the waiting room. His attention was then brought back to Dr. Gingiva discarding the needle. “Perfect! You’ll be totally numb in less than a minute.”

“Stop right there! That man right there is coming with us!” Scrooge kicked the door open with a daring look, Donald right behind him as they wielded foam dart guns.

“Enemy enforcements!” Gyro exclaimed in mock horror and grabbed his walkie-talkie. “Requesting backup, stat!”

Before Scrooge and Donald could fire any of their ammo, they were suddenly attacked from the rear by Huey, Dewey, Webby, and Launchpad, who were all wielding dart guns of their own. What proceeded was an all out melee of darts, and Gyro engaging Scrooge in a mock swordfight while wielding an electric toothbrush. 

Louie was so enthralled with the chaos and the delight of watching Launchpad tackle both his uncles at once, he didn’t even care to notice Dr. Gingiva working diligently on his cavity, only being made aware when the dentist stood up in triumph. “Mr. President, the universe is saved, and Earth has been renamed Planet Louie in your honor.”

“Curses!” Donald yelled.

“You haven’t seen the last of us!” Scrooge declared as he and Donald were chased out of the dentist office by the ducklings and Launchpad.

Rushing out after them, now wielding his own dart gun, Louie fired darts everywhere in the waiting room and glanced up to Gyro, who was already reloading darts.

“Thanks for the backup, Mr. Secret Service!” Louie grinned at him, firing a dart right at Donald’s head.

“Any time you need my forces, I’ll keep you covered.” Gyro smiled as he dramatically dodgerolled and leaped onto Launchpad’s back.

Shielding himself from more barrage with a chair cushion, Donald looked to Scrooge and whispered, “I can’t believe that really worked.”

“I know,” Scrooge muttered back, whacking away darts with his cane. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think Gyro  _ outparented _ both of us this time. Maybe we should ask him to look after the kids more often?”

Donald and Scrooge then watched as Gyro replaced the dart gun in his hand with an actual, Gearloose-patented laser gun, firing it at the ceiling and leaving a sizeable hole and laughing maniacally.

Okay, maybe they’d just leave him as last resort.

 

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End file.
